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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118022">Burnt Ink</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm'>Oakwyrm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My City Now [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Getting Back Together, Grief/Mourning, Hair Washing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), M/M, Scars, Tattoos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:42:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius seeks out Remus on Dumbledore's orders. A brief tale of tattoos, grief, and scars old and new.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My City Now [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burnt Ink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love that "lie low at Lupin's" is an actual genuine tag, good work people I'm very proud of all of us.</p><p>EDIT: Re-written to be not so much of a fucking mess as of 16/03/2020</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius arrived before any missive from Dumbledore had time to. It was for that reason that, one fine morning in early July, Remus Lupin stood dumb-struck by his back door, utterly convinced he was seeing things. There was no other explanation for the large black dog currently sleeping in his backyard. Sirius was supposed to be off somewhere in hiding far away from anywhere the Ministry would even think to look, not curled up under Remus’ lilacs.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Except there was a Hippogriff tethered to the fence, and Remus couldn’t think of any reason he’d have to imagine a Hippogriff.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">The dog twitched and whined in his sleep and Remus’ heart thudded in his ears as he was abruptly brought back to the present. Before he knew it he had knelt down in the grass as close as he dared get. Sirius had most likely not been woken by anyone with good intentions in a long time and Remus rather liked his hands attached to his body.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Padfoot,” he said. An ear flicked in response. “Padfoot!” he said again, more urgently. Padfoot jerked suddenly and scrambled to his feet, breath coming out heavy and fast, a growl in the back of his throat. Then his eyes fixed on Remus and immediately he relaxed.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Come inside,” Remus said quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Padfoot nosed his shoulder in a hesitant sort of way as he passed before bolting into the shade of the house. Remus took a moment to cast the disillusionment charm on Buckbeak before following him. He found Sirius, still too thin, still with that unfamiliar hunted look about him but miles better than when last he saw him, standing in his combination kitchen and living room.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“He’s back,” Sirius said, his voice less gravelly from disuse than when last Remus had heard him but more urgent. Scared. “Voldemort’s back.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus shut the door sharply. The ground had slid out from under him. He felt like he was falling, hard and fast towards an inevitable, painful stop as he stared at Sirius in numb horror.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“You’re sure?” he asked because he had to because this had to be a mistake.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“He-” Sirius sat down very suddenly, crumpling into Remus’ battered old couch. “He got to Harry right under our noses. Had Crouch replace Mad-Eye and no one even <em>noticed</em>-”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western"><span>Remus’ heart jumped into his throat. “Wait.” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and try as he might no more words would come to him. So he took hold of Sirius’ left arm and yanked </span><span>up his sleeve.</span> <span>A</span><span>n immediate rush of relief flooded through his system. There, on Sirius’ outer forearm, lay the image of a fawn on a bed of willow leaves</span>. Awake and wary but<span> alive</span><span>. </span><span>Sirius had gotten it right after Harry’s birth </span><span>inspired by the Weasleys’ kitchen clock</span><span>.</span></p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Sorry, no he’s… he’s alive, at least, and whole. I’m not going to pretend he’s fine.” Sirius looked so small and tired. Remus sat down next to him and hesitantly took his hand.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Right, tell me everything.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">And so Sirius did. They sat there for well over an hour as Sirius recounted first the story from his perspective, then what Harry had told him and Dumbledore. He stumbled over his words, breath harsh and tears shining in his eyes as he recounted Harry’s tale of the spectral forms of James and Lily. His grip on Remus’ hand was nearing painful.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“And Fudge, that- that-” here words failed him. Apparently he could find no word harsh enough to encapsulate his feelings on the Minister. “He won’t believe a word of it! Wilfully turning his eyes away because he’s <em>scared</em> as if that will help anything!”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Shit,” Remus said, quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“That about sums it up,” Sirius said with a grim kind of humour.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">They sat there for a long moment, still hand in hand, before Remus’ sense slowly came back to him. He looked as Sirius, his long hair matted and dirty, his clothing ragged and filthy and looking like he’d spent the better part of a year in a cave.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“You need a bath,” he said, beginning to rise from his seat. Sirius blinked at him, then he laughed weakly and followed.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“A bath would be very welcome, thank you,” he said.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I can imagine,” Remus said with wry humour in his voice as he eyed Sirius’ hair. “This way.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">They made their way to the bathroom in silence. Sirius stood in the corner and watched as Remus drew the bath, a quick flick of his wand ensuring it would stay at the perfect temperature for as long as Sirius needed it. He turned, fully intent on leaving Sirius to it when a hand shot out to grip his arm.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I-” Sirius began and Remus couldn’t help but fixate on his eyes. Eyes that had once been so full of laughter and mischief, that would spark with his rage and shine with his joy. They were widows with shutters closed, now. “I could use some help with my hair,” he finally said and Remus nodded.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Of course.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus busied himself with looking through his soaps and shampoos as Sirius shed his clothing and stepped into the bath, an appreciative sigh falling from his lips. He could not help but think that the old Sirius would have been horrified to let Remus’ cheap shampoo within ten miles of his beloved hair.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“How short do you want it?” he asked, steering himself firmly away from that line of thought.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Around my shoulders,” Sirius said absently. He had relaxed back into the bath and looked near boneless in his relief. Remus’ eyes were drawn as if by magnets to the solid black paw print on the left side of his chest. The sight of it was so familiar yet not. Sirius was far too thin, a spectre of the memories they had made together.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">As Sirius settled into the tub Remus couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered over his chest and arms. It felt ridiculous to be<em> surprised </em>that they were still there. They were tattoos. Of course they were still there. More surprising was perhaps that Sirius was letting them show. All but one of them, the one he had gotten in a muggle tattoo parlour, carried a charm which allowed him to hide them at will.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Yet there they were. There sat the Canis Major constellation, surrounded by the outline of a Newfoundland dog beneath his right collarbone. Further down, through the water, Remus could see the ever-shifting shape of the geometric tattoo on his right hip. Even as he watched the lines re-arranged themselves from something crystalline to an intricately segmented circle.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">The lion’s head on Sirius’ left shoulder shook itself, the rainbow colours splattered beneath the line-art shifting and changing places. On his inner left forearm a line of silver moons declared the moon to be in its first quarter.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’d nearly forgotten you had that…” Remus said softly, finally shaking himself out of his thoughts enough to settle behind Sirius and reach for a pair of scissors. Sirius jumped slightly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“What?” His eyes flickered to the tattoo on his left arm and he relaxed again. “Oh, right.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">They lapsed into silence again as Remus worked on Sirius’ hair. The snip of the scissors filled the silence as long strands of matted hair fell to the floor at Remus’ feet.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Remember how angry you were with me for getting it?” Sirius said into the silence once Remus had put the scissors away and reached for a brush.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus snorted. “I was furious. I didn’t want you permanently marking your skin for my benefit.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Which was really quite egotistical of you, don’t you think?” Sirius teased, leaning his head back so he was looking up at Remus. “I mean there’s plenty of magic which requires a certain moon phase to work right, the fact that it helps me keep track of your furry little problem is a convenient coincidence at best.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus hummed thoughtfully but the reply on the tip of his tongue never came. Sirius chose that moment to lean forwards again, a bit further than he had been previously. His hair parted about his neck and Remus felt as if all the air had been abruptly stolen from the room.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">His hands shook as he brushed the last few strands aside to uncover a small, white lily on the nape of Sirius’ neck, solid black antlers rising from behind it. It was a muggle tattoo, that much Remus could tell immediately, and a recent one at that. Beneath his touch, Sirius had gone very still.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">For a moment the silence around them seemed suffocating, only broken by the steady drip of water from the tap into the bath.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“This one’s new,” Remus said when he finally found his voice.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I didn’t-” Sirius’ voice sounded choked. “I didn’t have anything for her. Before. I should’ve.” He actually sounded<em> guilty </em>about that.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“We all thought we had more time,” Remus said quietly, his hands moving methodically as he brushed Sirius’ hair. They lapsed into silence again, Remus doing his best to avoid any painful tugging despite the vicious snarls he found.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">When the brush was finally gliding through the soft, dark locks without any resistance Remus reached for the shampoo. Sirius looked momentarily startled but relaxed as soon as Remus’ hands worked themselves into his hair, washing months in hiding and weeks of travel out of it.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">All too soon it was over and Remus was rising from his seat.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” he said and shut the door behind him.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Once he was back in the comfort of his own bedroom the fragile seal he had placed over his own emotions cracked and broke. His legs shook beneath him and he sank to the floor, his back against the wall.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius was in his home. Within reach, as he had not been since a scant few hours last year. Remus pressed a hand to his forehead. It felt so foreign, to want Sirius and not hate himself for it. To miss him while the possibility of<em> not </em>missing him anymore was not so out-of-reach as it had been for the last thirteen years.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus almost laughed. The mess of emotions swirling in his chest reminded him strongly of the summer between their fifth and sixth year. When Sirius had turned up, half-dead and desperate, on the Potter’s doorstep and Remus had been suddenly and unpleasantly reminded after months of barely speaking to him in the wake of The Prank that actually he did care about whether Sirius lived or died. He cared a whole lot.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">That had not changed once in the following years, no matter how much Remus had tried to force the issue. There had always been some part of him that had screamed in protest. It couldn’t be right, Sirius<em> wouldn't</em>-</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Then another would hiss, in a malicious tone that reminded Remus rather a lot of Severus, that perhaps Sirius hadn’t changed. He had betrayed a friend before and anyone Remus might previously have turned to, to help him sort out his thoughts, was dead or worse.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Remus! Didn’t die on me did you?” Sirius’ voice, distant and with an echoing note, yanked him out of his thoughts.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’ll be right there!” He scrambled to his feet and yanked open his dresser. It took some time and digging through it before he found something that might even begin to fit Sirius. A set of muggle clothing Remus had not worn in years. They would be too long on Sirius no matter what he did, there was no helping that, but it would have to do.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">He walked briskly, just shy of sprinting, back to the bathroom.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’m sorry I-” He stopped short. Sirius was standing in front of the mirror, surveying his appearance with a critical eye. His hair was still dripping wet, a towel about his waist, but Remus’ eyes were fixed on the tattoo taking up the majority of his back.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">There in black ink, clear as they had ever been, a spell against fading the only magic added to an otherwise muggle tattoo, were Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot. However, between Moony and Padfoot where Wormtail should have been, there was a large, angry burn scar. Right above his spine. Remus didn’t have to ask what had happened.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“You’re very lucky that didn’t go much worse,” he said, setting the clothes down as he approached. Sirius froze, but Remus pressed on. “You could have paralysed yourself. You definitely risked a severe infection.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I knew that. Didn’t care. Couldn’t have him on my skin a second longer.” Sirius’ hands were gripping the sink in front of him so tightly his knuckles whitened. “Tried to carve him out my first week in Azkaban. They made sure not to give me anything sharp after that. Said I was a <em> suicide risk</em>.” He snorted derisively. “Whole place is a damned suicide risk but the Ministry only starts getting uncomfortable questions when inmates start dropping dead from things that can’t be explained away by natural causes.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus’ hand settled Sirius’ back, barely a ghost of a touch. Sirius leaned into the touch and a pang of guilt lanced through Remus’ heart which he promptly squashed. His own feelings could wait, this was not the time or place for them.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“One of the many things which will need to change if we win this coming war,” he said quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“When,” said Sirius. “<em>When </em>we win this war.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Sirius…”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“If I die in this fight at least let me go out hoping for the best.” Sirius’ voice was rough with emotion. Remus threw caution to the wind and pulled him close, nose pressed into his hair.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“You’re not going to die,” he said quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Now look who’s making impossible predictions.” Despite his words, Sirius pressed himself more firmly against Remus. Without thinking, Remus ran his thumb gently over the line of moons on his left arm, pausing of the solid black of the first quarter.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius turned his head slightly to give him a thoughtful look. “You don’t happen to have access to Wolfsbane this month, do you?” he asked, though his tone made it clear what he expected Remus’ answer to be.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“No,” he said. Sirius did not look surprised. “I’m afraid my tenure as a Hogwarts Professor spoiled me. It’s been a year and I still find my transformations without it more unbearable than before.” Especially now that Sirius had returned to him, though he kept that thought silent. The idea of spending the full moon with Padfoot with full control over his mind and actions made a deep longing curl in his chest.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Some of his thoughts must have been visible on his face, though, because Sirius said; “I could learn how to make it.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus shook his head fondly. “You were never that good at potions,” he said. Sirius puffed up his chest in mock-offence.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I was brilliant, I’ll thank you to remember!” he said and everything about it was so familiar that it sent a fresh ache through Remus’ chest. He hid his face in Sirius’ shoulder, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Not at potions, Lily always had you beat there,” he said, his voice a little muffled.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius relaxed back into his arms. There was an unmistakable tone of raw grief in his voice when he spoke next; “She’d have learned how to brew it.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus closed his eyes and drew in one long, deliberate breath.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“She would have,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper. “James would have insisted on tasting some ‘in solidarity’ and spent the rest of the day looking horrified and impressed.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius made a noise not dissimilar to a strangled sob and when Remus shifted to look at his face tears were dancing in his eyes. The realisation hit him like lightning from a clear blue sky.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve had so long to grieve I didn’t even consider…” His arms tightened around Sirius’ form as Sirius twisted around to curl into his grip.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Remus please I have to-” his words caught on a sob and he pressed his face into Remus’ shoulder. “I haven’t- Harry came first- I know it’s not a good idea but I <em> have to see</em>-” He couldn’t seem to get the words out, but Remus understood.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Alright, just get changed and we’ll go,” he said gently. Sirius nodded and released his grip on Remus.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">He took the clothes from where Remus had set them down and began to change, unconcerned with Remus’ continued presence in the room. The burn scar on his back drew Remus’ eyes no matter how he tried to avert them. He resolutely did not think about the circumstances in which Sirius had gained it, alone and desperate and grieving and<em> furious</em>-</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’m sorry I missed it,” Sirius said as he pulled on the old jumper which, as Remus had predicted, fell past his hips and covered over hands. “You as a teacher.” There was something soft in his look as he spoke.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’m sorry, too,” Remus said quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Harry told me you taught him how to conjure a Patronus.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“He’s a good student,” Remus said, leaning back against the wall. “Better person. James and Lily’s son to the core.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius’ laugh sounded strained as he tightened the belt Remus had given him around his far-too-thin waist and rolled up the trouser legs. “You can say that again. Ready to go?”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus nodded and in the blink of an eye the large, black dog was standing before him once more. He could see now what he had previously missed. The spot on Padfoot’s back where his fur was just a bit too thin compared to everywhere else.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">He wanted to say any number of things, each thought harder to put into words than the last, so instead when he finally spoke he said; “Try not to slobber all over my house.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Padfoot whuffed in a somewhat offended way as he trotted towards the door. Remus could not help the small half-smile that grew on his face as he followed the massive black shape out the door.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Before they left he cast the disillusionment charm on the both of them. Once he unpleasant sensation had passed he gripped on to the fur of Padfoots neck and with a crack they vanished from his garden.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">He had to take a moment to steel himself before he could open his eyes.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Lily and James’ home was the same as it had been the last time he saw it, save for the plaque covered with golden lettering and graffiti. The garden had become a small wilderness, nature creeping in over the house to reclaim in. Padfoot whined and pressed himself closer, his large presence a solid comfort.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“There is a grave here,” Remus said quietly. Padfoot made a small, bewildered whine in the back of his throat. “In the Christian cemetery. Her sister insisted.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Padfoot growled and Remus laughed, though perhaps it could best be called a weak chuckle.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Don’t worry, everything else is as they wished it. I had time to scatter their ashes on the Thames before Petunia Dursley burst onto the scene demanding Lily’s Christian roots be honoured.” He still didn’t think that had been for anyone’s sake but her own. It certainly hadn’t been Lily’s wish. She had wished to return to nature, in whatever way seemed best to the people around her. James, of course, had only ever wished not to be parted from her even in death. So Remus had fallen back on Hindu tradition as best he could. The destruction of Lily and James’ cottage had thrown somewhat of a wrench in the works there, but the flat where Remus lived at the time had served well enough as a substitute.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Padfoot looked at least somewhat mollified at this news, though still displeased.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">With a quick twirl of his wand, Remus conjured a small bouquet of wildflowers and laid them by the old, rusted gate. He lingered there for a moment, eyes fixed on the door to the cottage as his mind again repeated for him what Harry had told him about the visions that crashed down on him when Dementors approached. He could construct the scene in his mind, now. James, alone in the hallway facing down certain death to give Lily the smallest chance to run. Lily, standing between her son and her husband’s murderer, refusing to back down.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">He shut his eyes and drew a shaking breath. “We can’t stay here long,” he said quietly.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Padfoot heaved out a heavy breath and nodded his head, turning from the house. Remus followed and they made their way towards the obelisk in the centre of town. Padfoot pressed himself close and Remus found his fingers gripping onto his fur with more force than was probably comfortable as the shapes of Lily and James Potter grew clearer the closer they came, little baby Harry smiling contentedly in his mother’s lap.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">They stood there for a while in silence before Padfoot started forwards again and Remus followed. Padfoot curled up at James’ feet and Remus sat down, his back against the cool, dark stone. They stayed there in silence for a long moment until Padfoot nudged Remus with his nose and rose, shaking himself out. Remus nodded and with another crack, they found themselves back in Remus’ garden.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">In a second Sirius stood before him again.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Thank you,” he said quietly, reaching out to hold Remus’ hand tightly in his own.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">When he’d think back on it, later, Remus never would be able to say for sure which one of them leaned in first. All he knew was that wanting to kiss Sirius suddenly turned into actually kissing him and it was both familiar and so strange it made his head spin.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Sirius’ lips were chapped and dry, his arms too thin, his beard too thick but the way his hands tangled through Remus’ hair, grip just shy of demanding and the way he raised himself onto his toes so Remus didn’t have to bend down was all familiar enough to make his chest ache.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">It was over just as suddenly as it began. Sirius drew away, one hand rising to his mouth, a panicked look on his face. “I’m sorry I-”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I spent twelve years missing you and hating myself for it.” The words were out before Remus could think twice about it, an urgent need to stop Sirius from leaving, to<em> talk</em>, forcing them out of him before he could. Sirius froze. “I’ve loved you and I’ve hated you and I’ve hated myself for both.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Remus…”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I still love you. I think I always will, but I’m not the man you remember.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Something in Sirius’ face softened and he stepped forwards, one hand rising to trace a scar on Remus’ face.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Neither am I,” he said. “I’m on the run from the Ministry of Magic, my memory is spotty, I talk to myself constantly, and if you thought I couldn’t sit still<em> before…</em>” He laughed, a short bark of laughter before he abruptly sobered again. “I’m a mess, Moony.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I’d be a little alarmed if you weren’t, frankly,” Remus said, leaning into Sirius’ touch. The laugh he got in response was real.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“I love you, too,” he said. “And I’m going to learn it.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus blinked. “Learn what?” he asked, a little taken aback by the sudden change of topic.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“How to brew Wolfsbane.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Are you serious?” Remus asked, momentarily forgetting himself in his shock. Sirius’ smile was delighted in an insufferable sort of way and Remus surged forwards to kiss him before he could make any number of terrible jokes.</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">“Alright, I’ll shut up,” Sirius said once the kiss ended. “But for the record yes, I am.”</p><p class="first-line-indent-western">Remus smiled and kissed him again and he thought as they stood there in the sunlit garden beneath the shade of an old tree and maybe, just maybe, they’d be alright.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The tattoos described in this fic can be found <a href="https://oakwyrm.tumblr.com/post/612313216061685760/id-a-collection-of-pictures-of-sirius-black">here</a>.</p><p>Though please note this is no longer an accurate representation of what all tattoos he has in this universe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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